The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. "I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. "Everything has prospered with him in an extraordinary manner. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue.
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